Dark Blue
by Aeria
Summary: Kurt/Blaine. The story of how Kurt and Blaine broke up, found themselves and then found happiness. Chapter 3 is mostly sex fyi.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Dark Blue (1/13)  
>Rating: PG (NC-17 overall)<br>Summary: The story of how Kurt and Blaine broke up, found themselves and then found happiness.  
>Words: 2500<p>

A/N: Huge thanks to Aubrey for beta-ing. All remaining mistakes are my own and she's mostly there to crack the whip and be the only other person on the planet that knows how the whole story plays out and tell me I'm not crazy for trying to write the break up fic.

Huge pre-emptive thanks also to everyone who trusts me with these characters enough to read this fic. I don't want to spoil the ending or the progression or any of it: All I can say is both characters end up happy, despite this being a break up fic and I think people will be happy with how it ends. I have been toying with it for months and it's the scariest thing I've ever tried to write and I really do appreciate anyone who takes the time to read it.

* * *

><p>It is an unusually warm day in May when Kurt gets the news. The letter is waiting in his mailbox when he gets home from school and as the fingers of one hand run over his name on the envelope, his other hand is pulling his phone from his pocket and shakily hitting the 2 to speed-dial Blaine.<p>

Blaine arrives less than twenty minutes later, half-falling out of his car and breathless by the time he's knocking on the front door. When Kurt opens it, Blaine's babbling: "Kurt, whatever happens, whether it's good or bad or…you're going to be amazing. You're going to get to New York and blow everyone out of the water and in ten years we'll be—"

Kurt hushes him with a laugh and a wave of his hand and steps back to let him in. "How fast were you driving?" Blaine brushes past him, fingertips on the back of Kurt's hand and Kurt can feel the shake in him. Kurt can't help but reach out as he laughs, pulling Blaine back by the waistband of his jeans and tucking his shirt in properly for him.

"Calm down," Kurt admonishes, feeling the excitement radiate and catch him and he's strangely happy, just to have made it this far. "Come on."

Kurt leads him up the stairs to his room and Blaine follows, gaping and squeezing his hand and wondering why Kurt hasn't ripped open the damned envelope already.

Burt's sitting on Kurt's bed when they push through the half-open door and Blaine pauses and stares as Burt pushes up off the mattress, muttering, "Finally" and his eyes flicker from one boy to the other, then to the envelope and back to Kurt.

They stall then, Blaine still breathing loudly through his mouth, Burt with his hands on his hips and Kurt, fingernails scratching at the corner of the paper suddenly feeling reality weigh.

_This is it. _

"This is it," he breathes but doesn't move.

"Come on," Burt huffs and Kurt can see his fist clench and thinks he's about to grab the letter for himself.

Kurt sighs, prepares himself for the worst, looks to his dad whose eyes are wide and to Blaine who's grinning and nodding already.

He rips into the envelope. Unfolds the paper and tells his hands to stop shaking.

He's been accepted.

Every fantasy he's ever had about New York suddenly feels real.

And then Blaine and Burt are wrapping around him, hugging the breath out of him and talking and laughing and he's never, ever been so happy.

* * *

><p>It is weeks later and the warm, perfect days have started to settle in for good. It's a lazy weekend and the house is quiet, everyone out, but even Kurt can't say no to the sunshine and the sound of birds and the smell of freshly cut grass. He's led Blaine outside, set out a blanket under the apple tree and then laid back to stare up through the leaves.<p>

He's ben talking for almost an hour, he knows, he feels a little guilty but Blaine doesn't seem to mind, just twists his hips and nuzzles into where his head is resting across Kurt's stomach, leaning into the constant brush of Kurt's fingers through his hair.

"There's a restaurant I think I'll need to go to," he says absently, waits for Blaine to hum his question before he continues. "I don't think I can really afford it but it's only two blocks from the dorms and the menu is seasonal and the chef is French and they already have the fall specialties listed." He pauses and twists a curl around his finger, wishing he could make Blaine understand he prefers his hair loose, like this.

"Maybe Rachel and I will make it a thing. If the food is as good as I imagine it will be we could go for every new season and just overspend for one night." Another pause and he wants to tell Blaine about what he read on the internet about the subway last night but he bites his lip and twists another curl around his index finger. "How's your brother?" he asks instead.

Blaine makes a noncommittal shrug and mumbles out "Fine," making a point of nuzzling closer to Kurt's stomach and arching like a cat.

Up on his elbows, looking down, Kurt raises an eyebrow and wonders if there's more of a story there, though he can't imagine what: Blaine's always ready to regale him with the latest of Cooper's misadventures.

He settles back again and begins telling Blaine about the subway line closest to him, about where it can take him in Manhattan. And Blaine hums and queries the story like he has been for weeks and Kurt relaxes.

He knows he can't stop talking about New York. He'd tried to stem the rambling in the beginning, spending a few days trying to feel out how talking about it would affect Blaine. But Blaine had just grinned, eyes sparkling, and asked question after question after question.

So Lima fades into a grey background that has skyscrapers and Broadway and yellow taxis dazzling and in sharp focus up front. Overnight his thoughts and conversations have shifted to everything ahead. The people, the places, the potential.

* * *

><p>Another week passes and Kurt still can't stop talking. Burt and Carole listen with fond, happy smiles and Kurt blushes at how obsessed and excited he's become. He drags Blaine up the stairs to look at photos of the dorms on his laptop, pointing out the terrible décor and the inevitability of a roommate.<p>

"But I think I've found a fabric store that sells spare material at very reasonable prices so I might be able to salvage things." Kurt looks away from the screen and to the side and for a split second he sees Blaine's lips down-turned, his brow creased and he's asking, "You don't think they'll let me?" before it registers that Blaine's smiling broadly at him again.

"I'm sure you can talk them around," Blaine says brightly and Kurt wonders if he imagined it.

* * *

><p>The same thing happens again a few days later, Kurt's neck snaps around quickly to gauge a response to something and instead of looking as excited and happy as Kurt, Blaine looks tired and sad. It's just a split second though and Kurt is too caught up in the slipping away last weeks of senior year and packing and planning.<p>

* * *

><p>Before he was accepted, Kurt day-dreamed about New York. About nice apartments and piano bars and sophisticated friends. Little scenes in which everyone was beautiful and kept to script and the costume department was flawless. Blaine was always there in his fantasies, he guesses that was the most fantastical aspect. And even in the months after being accepted his imagination is easily stretched around the idea of a short separation followed by a passionate reunion.<p>

"When you come up to New York next year," he begins, just like he's begun a hundred other conversations, "We'll have to find the best cafes half way between my dorms and yours. Or will your parents get you an apartment?" Blaine hums and Kurt waits. "Unless you come to NYADA as well," he wonders aloud. "Or are you still thinking something more musical?" Blaine hums again but doesn't elaborate.

Kurt sighs happily. "I'll have so many people and places to introduce you to when you get there."

Blaine tugs him close where they're lying across the bed and Kurt watches his eyes flicker and then his throat work as he swallows before he smiles brightly back to match Kurt's.

_We are going to do this._ _We're forever._

Kurt can feel Blaine's hands heavy and tight on him and wonders, not for the first time, what exactly is wrong. Whether it's his parents or Glee or something else. He wants nothing more than to reassure so he says it out loud: "We are going to do this. We're forever."

Kurt's staring right at him as he says it, trying to work him out, so Kurt can't miss Blaine's reaction. It shocks him to see something that he thinks is agony and that rips at his heart and he knows in an instant that he should have seen it before, that it's been there before. He can't believe that he missed it for this long.

Because how long has it been there? Doubt and sadness and anger and so much pain and Kurt knows it's been there too long and he missed it and even now he would have missed it again except he was waiting, watching, for Blaine to tell him about some new disagreement with his dad and instead it was all directed at him.

Kurt's whispering out, "Blaine," looking terrified as he tries to piece everything together.

But Blaine's smiling and hugging Kurt, kissing his cheek affectionately and sounding sure when he says: "Forever. Exactly."

* * *

><p>Kurt's leaving in less than a month and it's started to sink in that he probably isn't coming back until Thanksgiving. Blaine goes away for the weekend to visit his grandparents and Kurt misses him in a way that makes him feel hollow and bored and alone. And it's only three days and he wonders how he will manage three months.<p>

Worse than that, he thinks he feels Blaine pulling away, thinks he's being quieter than usual, less playful and when he asks Blaine's opinion about New York, when he talks about the time apart, Kurt thinks he sees Blaine's lips twitch downwards before he smiles, that little crease between his eyes there again. And Kurt realizes that here, in reality, Blaine won't be there with him like he always is in the fantasies. For long, stretched out months at a time and he begins to wonder how it will work.

* * *

><p>One night Kurt asks Blaine quietly, "Are you okay?"<p>

After Blaine's brushed the question off twice, smiling and feigning confusion at the question, he sighs and won't meet Kurt's eyes. "I've been fighting with my dad and I'm stressed about senior year."

It's the answer Kurt expected weeks ago but now it sounds like a lie. Kurt doesn't believe him and that in itself makes his stomach drop and his mouth go dry. "It's not about me going to New York? You're not…" he chews his bottom lip because he doesn't even really know how he feels about it anymore. Not now that there is doubt. "You're not worrying about that?"

Blaine stares at him and laughs a little, a lop-sided smile and a shrug but finally admits to something. "I'm going to miss you and I don't like that I won't get to see you every day," he admits. "You're going to be there, surrounded by everything you've ever wanted and I'll be here…" he trails off and shrugs again. "But I'm not worrying about it. Just a little sad. And jealous," he says as he smiles.

The half-truths slide between them easily and Kurt knows it as well as Blaine does but he doesn't say anything else.

* * *

><p>Two weeks before he leaves Kurt pushes the conversation because he can feel time slipping away from them and he doesn't know how it's going to work anymore. They're at Blaine's house, alone as usual, and when they would usually start sliding their hands indecently low and pressing closer, licking deep into each other's mouths and laughing and moaning, Kurt pushes Blaine back and insists. He talks about New York and how many months they will go without seeing each other and he watches Blaine's reactions.<p>

Blaine smiles and squeezes his hand but Kurt knows, he can see it now, if only in brief glimpses, that Blaine is terrified.

And suddenly Kurt's stops talking about New York and how wonderful it will be when Blaine gets there next year, about the cafes they'll frequent, the shows they'll see, the friends they'll make. He stops and stares and takes a deep breath and starts again.

"I'll call you every day," he whispers and watches Blaine's eyes go wide at the change in tone. "On my way to class and then when I get back to my room if who ever I'm rooming with can put up with it. Every day. Otherwise I guess I'll find somewhere I can sit. Central Park is too far away but maybe there's somewhere on campus. But I will call you Blaine."

He watches Blaine swallow.

"I'm going to miss you just as much as you're going to miss me." Kurt says it carefully because he thought that was obvious. He never thought he'd have to say it.

"We'll have skype as well. I know we've never really bothered but it'll be so easy to set up and we can talk to each other for as long as we want. There's wi fi everywhere." He pauses because Blaine's mouth has opened and there's something he wants to say but he isn't saying it. What more could he possibly want? What more would ease his mind? "Blaine…

"I'll be back for Thanksgiving. And then Christmas. And whenever after that and it's only a year. It's less than a year."

Blaine's fingers tighten briefly where they're wrapped around Kurt's arm but he still doesn't speak.

"I swear to god I'll call you all the time. I don't want to…It'll be just like you're there with me and then in no time you will be." Kurt tries hard to sound bright and happy but doubt has crept into his voice and he doesn't even know what he's doubting.

_This is the right decision, isn't it? We can do this?_

_We're forever?_

Abruptly, Blaine shakes himself out of staring. He smiles but it's not quite reaching his eyes anymore and he shrugs it off once more. "I know," he mumbles. "It's New York, Kurt," he says. "It's going to be amazing and I am just so, so jealous!" He tries to make it sound like a playful joke and fails.

Kurt feels his stomach knot, his thoughts and what has been said making him want to run. Blaine says something else, something about New York and the weather and Kurt leans forward. He kisses Blaine and ends the conversation so many miles from where it began. They turn the lights off and press too close for the heat of summer and try to lose themselves in each other. Afterwards, neither one falls asleep until the early hours of the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Apologies for the week long wait between first and second chapters. Real life happened but chapter three is mostly written and will be out much sooner I think. Thank you to Aubrey for listening to me babble about this for weeks on end and providing heaps of guidance. All remaining mistakes are my own.

And finally thank you so much to everyone who reblogged and reviewed part one, it was really nice to know there were people out there wanting to read this kind of story, though I know about 90% of you are terrified. Trust me, I know what I'm doing (maybe, I think.)

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

After that night, uncomfortable silences start creeping into the time they spend together. It gets worse but they both ignore it. Blaine sits and watches Kurt carefully, willing him to go back to the uncontainable excitement of before but knowing he won't.

Late one afternoon, Blaine breaks the silence with a shaky breath and then asks, "Are you sleeping okay?"

There's a moment of shock and then guilt, Kurt's eyes rimmed with fatigue and his teeth catching at the inside of his cheek in a habit Blaine knows he's only picked up in the last few days.

He looks caught by the question before he smiles and lies with a shrug: "Too excited, I guess."

Blaine doesn't know exactly how it all went wrong; how they ended up like this. They've stopped talking properly about anything and everything and only smile faintly as they grip each other's hands and await the approaching unspeakable tragedy. He doesn't know how New York stopped being the New York Kurt dreamed about but he knows it's because he's leaving Blaine behind in Ohio.

"Do you know anything about your roommate yet?" Blaine prompts, hoping to ignite a conversation.

Again, Kurt chews at the inside of his cheek and Blaine wants to tell him to stop. Then he shakes his head, flips a page over in his magazine and stares back down.

He won't talk about New York except to reassure Blaine that everything is going to be fine. Even now, glancing up and seeing Blaine staring, instead of telling him about the potential pros and cons of all potential roommates Kurt just smiles vaguely and deflects. "No idea. Whether he's accommodating or not though I'll still manage to call you all the time. I promise. The campus library is open until ten during the week and there are bound to be cafes open late. I will find somewhere and it'll become part of the ritual."

Whatever emotion crosses Blaine's features it stops Kurt from continuing. It doesn't matter because by now Kurt has said it all before. Over and over, trying to fill the stretches of silence, hoping to make it all better:

_We'll talk every day. I'll call you every single day._

_I'll tell you about all of it. It'll be just like you're there. And you can keep me up to date with all the Lima gossip._

_I can come back some weekends. If I catch the Friday night bus we can have all of Saturday together._

And Blaine tries to agree but he doesn't really. So when he says "Yes, absolutely, of course," it's a lie and they can both feel it. Blaine had thought that the viscous, heavy feeling of selfish jealousy and terror that had settled in his stomach in the beginning was as bad it would get. But this feels worse.

The night before Kurt leaves for New York Blaine stays over. Burt and Carole eat dinner with both of them except the conversation keeps lulling and it's not as joyous as it's supposed to be. When they're done, Burt and Carole make it very clear that they're going to stay downstairs for hours and watch TV. Burt squeezes Kurt's shoulder as he walks past and what could be awkward—their eyes meeting intensely, the implication of privacy—is heartfelt and special.

And then Blaine's leading Kurt up the stairs, spine too straight and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

It's stupid really. This is a few months, at worst. And they'll have all the contact they could want emotionally, just not physically. And it's hardly like their relationship is based on sex. They love each other. They're over-reacting.

The door is closed behind Kurt and before Blaine can even mumble out a word, can even think about how impossible it would be to try to have sex like this, Kurt is crying.

_It's so stupid. It's only a few months._

But Blaine pulls Kurt to his chest anyway, and doesn't say it's stupid, just lets his heart break and his shoulders shudder as he feels it rip through him. Not losing Kurt for a few unimportant months, but seeing him like this. Burrowing his body and his face into the warmth of Blaine's embrace, crying hard but quietly, sniffling and drawing sharp breaths as his eyes well up and he blinks and the tears drip down his cheeks, into the material of Blaine's cotton shirt.

Kurt is miserable and heartbroken and mumbling out, "I don't want to go."

Blaine clicks his tongue and his mind is made up. "Don't say that."

Kurt keeps crying, his tears soaking through to Blaine's skin and burning hot there. Blaine won't say his piece until Kurt has stopped though, won't try to talk to him like this. Blaine doesn't trust himself to string together coherent sentences while Kurt cries. He waits.

Eventually the sniffling shifts to bright, shining eyes staring up at Blaine as Kurt sucks in deep breathes. Then Kurt stops altogether and his cheeks blush as he realizes how badly he just fell apart.

_It's so stupid. _

But he says it again and he says it like he means it because in that moment he does, it's true and terrifying: "I don't want to go."

Shaking his head and pushing Kurt back, they end up sitting across from each other cross-legged on Kurt's bed. Knees touching, their hands with the ability to find each other but choosing not to. "Kurt, you want to go. It's New York."

Heavy silences for two weeks and now Kurt's crying and saying he doesn't want to go and all of the jealousy and fear Blaine felt in the beginning has been stifled, agonisingly, by the truth: You're ruining this for him.

Kurt stares at him, mouth opening and closing as though he wants to say something and his eyes are still wet and he looks miserable.

"I hate seeing you like this," Blaine mumbles, staring at his own hands where they're clasped in his lap.

_I hate making you like this._

"This is you dream. It's your big break and your chance to get out of Ohio. Remember how happy you were when you found out? How happy you were two weeks ago? Remember all the planning and how long you spent looking up all the local cafes and theatres, god, the bus routes, your dorms, the campus? You were happy and now you're miserable and I can't stand it."

Kurt keeps staring, eyes wet again, teeth working again at the semi-permanent indentations on the inside of his cheek.

"You're going to go to New York and it's going to be fantastic." Blaine says, sounding certain and fierce. "And tonight is our last night together and we're meant to be making the most of it."

All Kurt wants to say is that he's changed his mind. He's staying in Lima one more year. He'll work at his dad's shop and maybe take some night classes and wait for Blaine. But he can't. Because that's stupid as well.

Then Blaine is on his knees and sliding both hands across Kurt's cheeks and pulling him in for a heart-wrenching kiss. Soft and slow and as though this is the last chance for a kiss like this.

_It can't be though._

Kurt meets him after a long second of fighting it. Up on his knees and pulling Blaine's shirt out of the back of his pants and pushing his fingertips into the skin of the dimples at the small of his back even harder than usual.

He moans into Blaine's mouth and sucks on his top lip and every little movement, every pull and push and frisson of electricity aches because tomorrow it will all be gone. Blaine gets him naked somehow. Then he stands at the end of the bed and watches Kurt with dark eyes as he tugs his shirt over his head and then slides his jeans down his legs along with his underwear and steps out of them. He climbs back onto the bed, moves with practiced ease as Kurt slides down onto his back and waits for Blaine to kiss over his heart and slide up to hover above him.

They stare for too long, trying to gauge the night to come and the year beyond that. Then Blaine drops gently, presses skin to skin and moves, heaviness and heat and kisses along the line of Kurt's jaw.

That's when Kurt starts crying again. The sweat and the friction not nearly enough to make him forget and Blaine makes a noise, frustrated and growling, and pulls him in tighter, slides his hands down between their bodies and wraps his fingers around Kurt's length, twisting and sliding, working him in the best ways he knows and finding him hard and wanting.

One last time. One last time, he wants. Before he lets him go.

But Kurt starts mumbling in his ear, rocking his hips as his legs come up and cross over Blaine's ass, fingernails scratching up his back as Kurt whispers, "Love you," and "Miss you," and "Forever," and his cheeks stain with tears.

It's not meant to be like this. Kurt's not meant to cry because of Blaine. And then Blaine's own cheeks feel too hot and he's blinking heavily through the tears and giving up. He pulls away to the side, disentangles from Kurt but then can't and reaches, grabs at him and pulls him back across his chest, wraps his arms tight around his back as he pulls him in, fits him to his body once more and presses his mouth to his hair, crying as quietly as he can and trying to remember to breathe.

Minutes pass and Kurt's heartbeat slows and his arms loosen where they've wrapped around Blaine's waist. They're still half-hard against each other. "You'd think we were never going to see each other again," he attempts to joke but it's one of the truest things he's said in weeks.

Blaine hum into his hair, not trusting his voice.

Kurt tries again: "It's like we're the tragic star-crossed lovers in some Victorian novel."

Another breath. "I'll be back for Thanksgiving."

_You'll call me every single day. You'll try to make it like I'm there with you._

They lay like that for as long as they can. Only sore muscles and too much sweat making them rearrange and it makes Kurt speak again, still sounding so broken. "I wish I'd waited for you."

Shaking his head, Blaine turns him in his arms, angles his face with a hand splayed over his cheek and forces Kurt's eyes onto his. "Don't say things like that."

Kurt goes to speak but Blaine _can't _and he pushes Kurt back and wriggles away, sits up and finds the blanket at the end of the bed and covers them both with it before he lays back down, empty space between them as he stares at the ceiling, collects his thoughts one more time, and then looks at Kurt._ "_Don't. I hate seeing you like this. It's stupid. This is…it's a year. One year. It should be the best year. And it should be about New York and you and everything you ever wanted. You're going to _love_it. Without me." He shushes Kurt again with a look and the tips of his fingers over his mouth.

"And stop saying you'll call me every day. That you'll tell me everything. This is your _dream_, Kurt! Go out and meet people and do _everything_." He grits his teeth. "It's not fair on either of us if you miss out on things because you feel obliged to talk to me."

"But—"

Blaine shakes his head and presses his fingers harder over Kurt's lips. "Promise me you'll live your life like you're not waiting for me to catch up."

Kurt's thoughts stutter because the way Blaine says it is even and practiced and Kurt suddenly knows just as well as Blaine how many times that exact thought must have flashed through Blaine's mind. Secret and dangerous and now given the power of voice.

Kurt wants to shake his head and say how terrible it is to demand such a thing from him but Blaine's eyes are wide and earnest and wet. "Why?" Kurt whispers out. "Why would you ask me to forget you like that?"

Blaine shrugs. "Because for a decade, maybe more, this has been all you wanted and if I wasn't here, tying you back to Ohio you would be so happy instead of crying and saying you don't want to go anymore. I know how brave you are. I know how much you want this. And it's my fault that suddenly you don't."

_Oh my god_. Kurt's mouth opens and closes and every permutation of Blaine missing him and being scared of the distance and being upset about what he will miss dissolves and he's left with reality. "It's not."

"I don't want you to miss things and hold that against me," Blaine responds quickly.

"I wouldn't." Kurt will say anything, _anything_, to make him stop, to make the conversation stop.

"I'm saying I won't let you."

Kurt's mouth closes slowly and he stops himself before he says anything he'll regret. He can't stop himself from inching backwards though, from grabbing the blanket and pulling it higher and closer around him as he stares.

"What does that mean?" he eventually asks, working to keep his voice even.

Blaine's half through swallowing thickly when it registers what Kurt's asking and he chokes around his answer. "No. Oh god, _no_—" because he's not, he doesn't mean that but Kurt's eyes are wide, his lips thin as he tries to close himself off and not show the anger or the fear. Blaine swallows again and licks his lips. "What you're thinking isn't what I mean. Not at all. I'm not…" _Oh god Kurt I could never do that. _

He steadies and reaches out, ignores Kurt's flinch as he lays his hand heavy and awkward over Kurt's bicep. _"_I just don't want you to be miserable. I want this to be the best year of your life."

It doesn't sedate Kurt at all, his eyes still wide and his mind turning Blaine's words over again and again. His voice is sharp and accusing as he snaps and then shakes off Blaine's hand: "How is it going to be anything good if you're not there?"

Blaine scrambles and his heart aches because he's making it _worse_. "Look, no, you don't understand—" _Worse_. "Kurt, please—" _Worse_. "I'm not saying…" Kurt flinches again and Blaine reaches for him and Kurt's eyes slip around the room, searching out his clothes. "I'm saying—"

Kurt looks hard at him, just once and then his eyes go back a spot behind Blaine on the wall. "What Blaine?" he snaps again.

Blaine takes a deep breath and then sucks in another, fighting down the hot twist in his stomach as it claws up his throat, the one that reminds him of the panic attacks he used to have in the weeks after the Sadie Hawkins dance. Another breath: "I'm saying all I want is for you to be happy," he stresses. "If that means you don't call me for a few weeks because it hurts too much, so be it. If it means I have to keep up with your adventures along with everyone else by reading facebook updates then…So long as it is because you're too busy having fun, I will be able to live with that. I can't stand to think of you miserable."

"I'm not." And he's softened, relaxed into the bed because his mind has slowed and he knows what's happening.

Blaine sighs. "You are." He reaches out a third time and watches Kurt lean into the touch of fingertips to his neck, his eyes fluttering closed. "You need to go up there and be as fabulous as you can be. Like I know you want to be. You'll get swept up in it once you're there and this is me saying don't feel guilty about that."

Kurt wishes Blaine was sad or jealous, anything instead of…this. "But..."

"Kurt you…" _Breathe_. "I'm giving you a free pass on all of it. You being happy is so much more important to me than us right now. If waiting is going to hurt too much, if it's going to make you feel like you have been for the last two weeks." _Don't wait. "_You don't have to…You…" He squeezes his eyes shut. "Don't wait. And trust that it'll work out in the end. Trust that. _I_trust that."

Kurt stares and turns his head, presses his lips to Blaine's palm and whispers, so unsure, "You are. You're breaking up with me."

"I'd never." He couldn't. "I'm saying don't stop yourself from experiencing everything that you deserve to experience because you're missing me or feeling guilty. That's what I'm saying. That's all I'm saying. I don't want you to hate me because I was the one bad thing about going to New York."

Blaine can tell Kurt doesn't really understand, can see how tired he is, how he didn't want to fight, and he doesn't know how they ended up here after things were so good for so long. But this is what Blaine knows to be right, knows that Kurt can forget him for a year and have fun and be joyous and brilliant in New York without him. It's not forever, it's not even real, but he can't send Kurt off knowing that Kurt will miss him so much it aches.

Blaine can miss and ache in Ohio but Kurt shouldn't while he's in New York. Kurt being happy is so much more important to him than his own ridiculous need for constant contact, his desperate, hopeless want to be there with him every step of the way. Kurt is so much more important than that.

Kurt hasn't said anything. He won't. He doesn't understand what Blaine isn't saying and they both silently hope that it all slots into place tomorrow. That somehow they can wake up and be happy like they were a month ago.

For now Blaine gives a shaky smile and squeezes his eyes closed for a second. When he opens them Kurt's staring at him with eyes bluer than ever and then shifting forward, kissing Blaine once, softly, on the cheek, before he turns his body and leans heavily back, pulling Blaine's arms around his waist and interlacing their fingers.

Thankfully, Kurt falls asleep quickly: a combination of having spent the better part of half an hour crying and not having slept properly for weeks and the unavoidable comfort he always finds on the occasions he's been allowed` to sleep with Blaine wrapped around him.

Blaine waits until Kurt's breath is even and his body heavy and then he lets his mind flood. Allows the anxiety to overtake him and make his heart hammer and his throat constrict as he blinks back his own tears. It passes, in his experience, the feeling always passes.

He doesn't know what he's achieved, he doesn't know if Kurt's understood or if he's just made it even worse than before. But Kurt will go to New York. He'll be surrounded by new friends and experiences and he'll forget how miserable leaving Blaine behind made him.

_God, please let him forget. _

And Blaine will do everything in his power to help him. He won't call him whenever he wants to or text when something small reminds him of Kurt, reminds him of them together. When he gets into a fight with his dad he won't write out his thoughts, his questions, his doubts, in an email and annoy Kurt with that.

He won't do anything at all when he's so lonely he can't breathe. And he already knows he will be. He'll manage on his own, it'll pass, and Kurt will be happy. And then Blaine will be in New York with him and everything will be right. And that's what matters.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Dark Blue (2/13)  
>Rating: NC-17<br>Summary: The story of how Kurt and Blaine broke up, found themselves and then found happiness.  
>Words: 5000<p>

A/N: Thank you so much to the people reading this and talking to me/letting me talk at them about it. Thank you to Aubrey for listening to me babble about this for weeks on end and providing heaps of guidance. All remaining mistakes are my own.

I know it's been rough but here, have some sex!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three <strong>

Kurt does kind of forget Blaine. Not on purpose. Not in a bad way. Just in an overwhelming-New-York-Oh-My-God kind of way. He's there and so busy, sleep-deprived and surrounded by people who, for the first time in his life, actually get him. And after a few weeks there are days where he doesn't wake up thinking about Blaine. Six weeks after the move, he makes it to late one Thursday night before he—yes guiltily—remembers his boyfriend back in Ohio and quickly finds his phone and calls and leaves Blaine a quick account of the too-long day on campus.

He forgets Blaine except for the moments he remembers him and then he misses him and he loves him more than ever.

When he goes for coffee and the woman in front of him orders a medium drip.

When he finds a place, just off campus, that makes mushroom risotto even better than Blaine's.

Kurt remembers Blaine then and sends off texts and calls when he can and tries to skype. But his roommate is an asshole which makes it difficult and Blaine constantly sounds bright and happy, listening for a few minutes to tales of New York and then pushing him away, out, telling him there are better things to be doing than trying to keep Ohio in the loop.

When the cute guy in one of his lectures taps him on the shoulder, smoulders at him a little, and asks him out for a drink, Kurt shakes his head and tells him all about Blaine and the cute guy—Michael—shrugs it off and says 'makes sense' in a way Kurt doesn't really understand. They go out anyway but with Rachel and two other girls and Kurt's abrasive, rude roommate. They go to a little place, way down in the village that doesn't ask for ID, not even from Kurt. And they drink and dance and end up at some piano bar that won't serve them alcohol but is happy for them to sing their hearts out to showtunes and the top forty.

When whoever is on the piano starts playing an unmistakable Katy Perry number and Michael stands on a table to sing it, Rachel finds Kurt and slides a hand around his waist and buries her face in his chest. "You miss him," she says, far too loudly.

And Kurt's eyes immediately prickle and he says, "Yes."

He's on the subway and then he's home and he's sent a dozen texts and called a dozen times but Blaine hasn't responded. It's almost three in the morning so that makes sense but for the first time in a while everything inside his chest aches.

Kurt tries to make a video to send him once he's back in the dorm but he can't get his words to make sense and he keeps scrapping the recordings. Then his roommate is stumbling in and collapsing and Kurt won't chance the noise. He types up an email, keeps typing and typing and he knows he's a bit drunk and overly emotional because his face feels hot and tears drip onto the backs of his hands. He hits send and crawls into bed for a few hours sleep before class.

_I can't wait to see you. I'm back in a week._

* * *

><p>He flies in on the Thursday morning. He had hoped to sneak back a few days earlier but he's been cast, as expected, in the chorus of the college production and that is prestigious and important. Rehearsals are already in full swing what with a second production expected for the second semester and there has already been drama with one of the understudies—remarkably not Rachel.<p>

On top of that, somehow he's been roped into being second in charge of the costuming for the seniors' graduating short plays and monologues. He still doesn't know how someone tracked down his portfolio or managed to coerce him into meeting Melanie, the senior costume design student from FIT who'd landed the job.

But once he was sitting in front of her he took a deep breath and just talked. And one thing led to another…

So he gets back Thursday morning, already tired and just happy to be faced with a quiet Thanksgiving at home. Burt, Carole and Finn pick him up and are laughing and grinning and Carole won't stop saying things like: "Oh my god, you look so grown up!" and "Have you gotten taller?" and "Already too big for Lima, Ohio!"

Kurt rolls his eyes and hugs his dad and kisses Carole on the cheek and then they drive home with Kurt leaning forward from the backseat and chatting incessantly.

He spends the day napping and eating and laughing with his dad, Carole and Finn. No one mentions Rachel, not after everything that happened. But eventually Burt levels his gaze and asks Kurt when he's going to see Blaine.

Kurt stares, then looks to Carole and Finn, hesitates because it all sounds so serious and he doesn't think it should be. When he eventually answers it's airily: "He's picking me up at a reasonable hour tomorrow for coffee."

Burt's brow creases and Kurt holds his gaze.

* * *

><p>Blaine picks him up just after ten the next morning and Kurt looks fresher and more well-rested than ever. Blaine even says so and grins like a schoolboy—Kurt figures, technically, he still is—and then slides into the drivers seat. They take the usual route to the Lima Bean.<p>

They drink coffee and slide easily into conversation, clicking back into place like they were never apart, like the fighting before Kurt left never happened. There's no tension and Blaine indulges in Kurt falling into the trap of talking, talking, _talking_. About New York, all of it, just like he did in the beginning.

Of course, there is still that pang of sadness and a twist of jealousy when Kurt talks about people Blaine doesn't know except from Facebook photos. When he talks about New York and classes and adventures but the pain is nothing compared to the agony of when he wasn't talking at all.

Distance, if anything, feels like it's left no mark on them. Deciding not to cling hopelessly to each other when they couldn't, Blaine thinks, was the right decision. And Kurt seems to have understood, seems content to exchange stories and laughter and soft smiles and not dwell on the messy, almost-destruction of just before he left.

"You still remember my coffee order," Kurt jokes as Blaine returns with their second cup.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>They end up back at Kurt's house. It's after midday and there is a note on the kitchen counter from Carole to say they've all gone across town to Finn's aunt's house and Kurt is welcome to join them if he likes. Blaine too.<p>

And then it's awkward. They stand stealing glances at each other in the lounge room and Kurt seems to have finally run out of stories to tell. Blaine is just about to say he should get back home when Kurt speaks: "Come upstairs with me?"

_No._

And it aches. Just the idea of pretending this isn't over any second now aches and Blaine can't even make sense of that.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>Blaine hasn't laid eyes on Kurt's bedroom for two months. Not since he slid out of Kurt's grasp early that August morning and was gone before Kurt woke up.<p>

It doesn't look that different to the last time. Some of the pictures have moved around, Blaine thinks, and instead of the two big suitcases Kurt had packed for New York now there's only a small one pushed into the corner. The sheets are a different shade of blue and the bed is unmade.

An eyebrow arches before Blaine can stop himself: he doesn't think he's ever seen Kurt's bed unmade, unless they're in it, of course, of just getting out of it.

Kurt's darting past him and flicking out the sheets quickly as he blushes and knows exactly what Blaine isn't saying. "I slept in this morning," he mumbles. "And technically I'm on holiday."

Blaine laughs. "I wasn't judging."

Kurt turns on him, bitch face in place and Blaine's _missed_ that. "Yes you were."

Blaine laughs again. "Not in a bad way though."

Kurt just clicks his tongue and fluffs the pillows but, Blaine notices, doesn't actually make any kind of move to tuck the sheets in properly. Blaine wants to run almost as much as he wants to stay. Wants this whole year to be over and forgotten and being here, with Kurt, is reminding him that it isn't. It's reminding him that in a few days he'll have to start again: stop himself from messaging and calling and answering every email with long, detailed paragraphs full of in-jokes and questions and endearments.

He's astounded they've clicked back together like it hasn't been months. He doesn't know what to do with that. He'd expected awkwardness and distance: he's been prepared for that. Now he doesn't know whether to talk to Kurt about what is happening or not. Whether he needs to push him away again to make sure he goes back to New York and keeps living.

It's only November.

"Can I kiss you?" Kurt asks.

_No._

He's standing so close though and Blaine can smell him and see the specks of green in his eyes, can feel the butterfly soft brush of Kurt's fingertips up his forearm and can hear the hope in the shallowness of his breath.

Kurt's eyes flicker down to Blaine's lips for a second and then he licks his own and Blaine's face tilts up in the smallest of acquiescences.

The last two inches disappear and Kurt kisses him. Soft and tentative, as though he's almost forgotten how, both boys conscious of the caress of lips on lips that is barely more than light pressure.

But Blaine's hands come up and grasp at Kurt's hips and Kurt's fingertips keep tracing faint, easy lines over the exposed skin of Blaine's arms and they hold like that for as long as they can bear.

Then they break apart, hands still against each other but lips pulled back as their eyes meet and they breathe.

Something he sees makes Kurt ask, "Is this okay?"

And Blaine shivers and gives in, chokes and begs and then falls forward again: "_Please…"_

This time the kiss is anything but tentative. Just like coffee and teasing and conversation, they fall back into _this_ with ease, clicking back into the place they left months ago. Kurt's head tilts to the left and Blaine's does the same, lips sliding, opening in perfect synch and tongues meeting each other half way.

Blaine holds on, lets his fingers flex into Kurt's hips through the denim before they slide up far enough to edge under the material of his shirt and pull him forward, even closer, skipping a few steps but that's hardly unusual. He just _wants_.

Kurt's fingers flutter as he keeps kissing back, fingernails scratching out paths up Blaine's arms, teasing under the sleeves of his shirt and then Blaine shifts to suck hard on Kurt's bottom lip, nips and growls and Kurt moans and fists his hands into Blaine's hair.

Kurt walks him back towards the bed without thinking, listening only to the tiny gasps Blaine is making against his mouth, pausing to slide a hand into his hair, angle him and kiss at the spot he loves on his throat and draw a whimper. He pushes him back, letting him fall heavily to the mattress and sit there, momentarily stunned but looking more beautiful than ever with kissed red lips and wide, earnest eyes. Stepping easily between Blaine's legs, Kurt places his hands on Blaine's cheeks and leans in and down to kiss him again.

_They should have spent the whole day kissing. _

Kissing and kissing and then kissing some more. Blaine's hands never leaving Kurt's waist, his hips, just a constant heavy touch that lingers and owns and slowly builds heat across Kurt's skin. But Kurt can't get enough and his hands quickly race across everything he can reach. Teasing touches sliding into scratches and hard grabs at cotton and flesh. Across Blaine's cheeks and jaw, into his hair, the back of his neck, his shoulders and it all rushes past: every thing he's missed. Kissing Blaine hard over and over until Blaine is the one that needs more, needs one more moment of reprieve and contact before Kurt slips back to New York.

Except he knows how this ends, where this is going and he's powerless to stop it. And he wouldn't. He couldn't. He wants this and there is nothing wrong with that, refuses to think there could be. He wants this and everything that goes with it and Kurt's kissing him like it's their last moments on earth, just like he should have the night before he left, just like he has every other night they've ever spent together.

Blaine drags Kurt down onto the bed over him, pulls him down heavily and pushes his hands out from where Kurt's trying to balance on the mattress. All this so Blaine can feel the weight of him there, the length and reality of his perfect body pressing down over his as Kurt never stops kissing him and Blaine loses himself in it.

When Blaine arches and gasps, short of breath and wanting and hard, Kurt's hips meet the thrust of his, setting up a pace and rutting down into the crease of his thigh like that's the best they can get.

Blaine chokes out his boyfriend's name, pleading, and Kurt pulls back and stares, his mouth stretched broad in a grin and his eyes alight, playful as he punctuates his smile with a roll of his hips.

"Naked?" Kurt asks like he has to and the impish grin, the arch of an eyebrow makes Blaine laugh as he nods eagerly.

Kurt kisses him one more time, almost gets lost in it again, almost forgets about naked and more and just falls back in and gets off like that but Blaine's hands spasm on his hips when the friction gets too much and he pulls his mouth away to groan and then he's lifting Kurt off him and pushing him to the side.

They pause there, lying on their backs, side-by-side and stealing glances and grinning as they catch their breath. "Naked," Blaine says and then reaches for the button of his jeans.

They get undressed quickly, separately. Trying to stay on the bed and not stare too long at the inches of pale skin that are bit-by-bit exposed. Blaine is left kneeling there, cock in hand, hair tussled and still inescapably breathless as Kurt bends himself in half to tug at his boots, growling and swearing under his breath as the laces tangle around his shaking fingers and his pushed-down jeans try to tip him over sideways.

Blaine watches him for long seconds, mentally documenting the lines of his back and the scar at his hip and the shine of short, light hairs on his thighs. Then he chuckles, kisses Kurt on the neck and pulls him to the edge of the bed. He slides off and down to his knees on the floor and bats Kurt's hands away, gives in to Kurt kissing him again as Kurt sits up and lets Blaine battle his shoes.

He tugs the double knots loose in seconds and eases the boots off, tugs Kurt's jeans and boxer briefs the rest of the way down his legs and discards them off to the side. Then he settles back on his haunches between Kurt's knees and looks at him again, up the insides of his spread thighs, over his stomach and chest, shaking with laughter and deep breaths, to his eyes and away and back to his cock. Kurt reaches for him, fingers dipping into his hair and tugging, trying to coax him back up and onto the bed.

"Wait." Blaine's hands slide up Kurt's legs in one slow push, from ankle to the back of Kurt's knees, up his thighs, thumbs rubbing slow lines into the crease where they meet his body.

Some corner of his mind tells Blaine he shouldn't but it's such a small voice in a crowd of desperate want and so is easily ignored. He pushes Kurt's legs wider, ignoring his gasp of surprise, and leans in, taking Kurt's cock between his lips in one easy movement.

It feels like muscle memory and reflex: doing this. There's hardly anything conscious left about the way he works his mouth, his tongue, his throat. Taking Kurt in further and swallowing, laving the underside with the flat of his tongue and then pulling back to tease and suck and lick in circles and figure eights and random swirls across the tip.

He forgets what he's doing, closes his eyes and gets lost in the whimpers Kurt makes, in the way his breathing hitches at every perfect press of Blaine's bottom lip just under the head, at his hands giving up and wrapping tight and demanding in Blaine's hair.

When Blaine opens his eyes to look he meets Kurt's gaze from under his lashes and holds him there, captive in his line of sight as his mouth keeps working and Kurt's hips start to rise off the bed, his hands tightening further and pulling Blaine's mouth onto his cock by the barest few centimetres, just like Blaine told him he loved a few weeks before Kurt left.

Blaine pauses, suddenly aware of how high Kurt's keening voice is, how quickly he could come and then fall back across the sheets, sated and sleepy and all of this peaked and suddenly declining. He pulls off with a final one, two, three kisses to the head, licking his lips and humming around the sharpness of the taste. He means to crawl up over Kurt, fit them together and spend hours like that.

But he knows he can't.

With a jolt he realizes none of this can come close to perfection, can come close to enough and his mind slides into noise. He wants to push Kurt back and stretch his ass open on his fingers, his tongue, stretch and push and pull until Kurt's writhing and begging and then slide deep inside and fuck him slow and heavy and face to face. But then he also wants Kurt to pull him down and roll them, to grab at him rough and marking and put him onto his elbows and knees, ass in the air and fuck Blaine like that.

Blaine wants a hundred fantasies he's never had the chance to even whisper to Kurt with a blush and he wants them now. Wants to kiss and touch and come a thousand different ways but he knows they don't have time and this is already more than he told himself he'd take.

So he stays there on his knees, eyes searching upwards and meeting Kurt's and finding his brow furrowed. He doesn't want that so he leans forward, hot breath over Kurt's cock and Kurt's hips off the bed but he dips his head and licks roughly over Kurt's balls, tongues at one then the other and then sucks and mouths and smiles when Kurt flops back on the bed and arches high.

Blaine's hand are around Kurt's thighs, lifting and pushing them back, spreading Kurt wide and precarious on the edge of the bed as he begs a few more seconds being lost in taste and heat and licks a line over Kurt's hole and he _moans _into it, the sound loud and echoing and making Kurt's hands grip at the edge of the mattress for balance and then dip back into Blaine's hair, holding him there as his tongue traces back and forward and then in circles, his face pressing in for more contact, tongue sliding inside Kurt for the barest of seconds and then Kurt's calling for him, high and thready, "Blaine, Blaine, oh god, _Blaine, _don't."

And he yanks Blaine up, hands scratching over his shoulders and his back and his legs flopping down to hang over the bed as Kurt shivers and bites back his orgasm, every muscle tight and warring with instinct as Blaine's body meets his and Blaine kisses him hard.

But it's too much and Kurt needs to take Blaine with him—always, always needs to take Blaine with him—so he wrestles Blaine's body away from his until the friction is gone and Blaine can't get close enough to kiss him and Kurt's backed away across the sheets.

When Blaine's vision focuses, Kurt's wearing a breathless smile and a sparkle in his eyes and nothing else and Blaine thinks he looks like everything good left in the universe. He wants to pounce but Kurt's hands are up, keeping him back as he catches his breath and trembles.

"Too close," he mumbles, smiling ruefully.

Blaine nods but doesn't say that Kurt can make him come whenever he likes with a whisper, with a look, with a touch.

He lets the seconds pass, lets Kurt calm and collect his thoughts and step back form the edge and then Blaine asks, "Ready?"

And Kurt says, "Always," and makes Blaine's breath catch deep in his chest.

Blaine wants nothing more than to make this perfect for Kurt. "How?" he whispers, dropping to his hands and knees and stalking Kurt across the few feet of bed, kneeling up in front of him and flattening his palms over Kurt's cheeks.

Kurt stares and blinks slowly, lets his hands trace lines down Blaine's chest. He starts kissing him before he starts answering. A chaste press of lips turned dirty and deep. "Here." He licks at Blaine's bottom lip. "Just us." He kisses over his top lip. "Just like this." His hands pull Blaine in and fit their hips together as he kisses Blaine's nose and they both giggle because this is truly stupidly romantic and sexy and wonderful. Kurt blushes and admits, "I'm not going to last." And kisses Blaine's chin, then more kisses, butterfly soft up his jaw to just beneath his ear. "I'd almost forgotten how good this feels," he whispers. "How good we feel together."

_Just like this_.

Blaine pulls him in harder, finding friction in an instant as their cocks drag over each other and against skin and then better as Kurt reaches down between them and aligns everything. Blaine makes Kurt moan into his mouth as he starts kissing him again, dragging his fingers over Kurt's ass, stopping to squeeze and hold him there so he can thrust up along the length of Kurt's cock and turn the kiss messy and haphazard, barely more than the press of open mouths searching for taste, contact and air.

Kurt whimpers and they tilt, the bed beckoning but Blaine can't quite decide whether the press of Kurt over him or the press of him over Kurt is better so he rights them back up on their knees and licks down Kurt's neck.

Blaine is sucking a mark into Kurt's collarbone, Kurt's hand wrapped around both their cocks and stroking in slow measured strokes when Kurt's mouth falls open and he utters, "God I missed you." Then he gasps and arches and Blaine's hands slide higher to linger over Kurt's ribs, slide down and tug him in roughly by the waist. "I missed you so much," Kurt says again and his voice sounds rough and Blaine won't, _can't_, look at him now. He knows it'll hurt too much, that it will shatter this precious, happy moment they've found and he would never forgive himself for letting it slip away.

So instead Blaine's voice gets caught as he tries to shush Kurt, air stagnant in his throat as his teeth find Kurt's throat, intent on finding his mouth next, moving up, biting and sucking and melting heavily into the contact.

"So much," Kurt mumbles and then laughs lightly, sounding blissfully happy as he leaves their cocks caught between their bellies and clutches at Blaine's back, raking up, fingers around his neck, then into his hair, pulling him closer, closer, _more._

"Shhh," Blaine hushes, his teeth tugging on an earlobe then pulling back and he breathes harshly, choking back the heart-wrenching truth because he won't say it, he won't:

_I miss you, too._

Blaine finds Kurt's mouth and kisses only to pull his mouth away again as he groans long and hard and his hips buck forward. Kurt's hands are everywhere once more, his mouth teasing the skin of Blaine's neck, his fingers digging in and the heat, the smell, the sweat of him all over and Blaine can't hold back. He whimpers and pulls Kurt even closer still, too rough and they topple onto the sheets, scrambling to get the touch of skin on skin back and tangle together.

In the end they end up on their sides, facing each other and hands racing up and down, too much skin for so little opportunity. Their hips stay close and Kurt presses a leg between Blaine's and hooks his ankle behind a calf and rides the rutting of their hips like that, whimpering high in his throat and squeezing his eyes closed.

"Blaine, I can't—" his hips stutter one more time forward, hard and imperfect, the way they're spread leaving a hipbone pressing into the tender flesh of Blaine's belly and he doesn't care.

Because Kurt's coming: panting and arching and riding Blaine's thigh, his mouth gaping and gasping and the lines of muscles beneath his soft skin are taut and raw. And Blaine watches, tells himself to remember because he won't take this again until he's in New York with Kurt and he can have it every goddamn day. This is his one reprieve and he'll treasure it. The sound and the feel and the bliss that settles in his mind just at knowing Kurt is his and spilling between them.

And then Blaine follows, mumbling Kurt's name into his shoulder and biting down hard, pulling Kurt against him, rough and firm and hot against his cock, with hands splayed out over the small of his back. He rides the sensation long after it becomes too much and it's only Kurt's nails biting at his shoulders and the small whimpers escaping his mouth between the ragged breaths that makes Blaine pause.

It's too much. To keep pressing, to keep dragging it out. But he's not even a little bit ready to let go. So Blaine winds his arms around Kurt's back and twists, lying flat across the sheets and pulling Kurt in across him, keeping him close.

They stay like that, legs tangled, Kurt's arm around Blaine's shoulders, Blaine's arms around Kurt's waist, bodies still pressed together in the sweaty sticky aftermath. At some point they know they'll have to move. At any point the sound of the garage door might reach them and then they'll have to scramble to find clothes and a hairbrush. But for now they just hold tight and breathe.

"You fly back on Sunday?" Blaine eventually asks.

Kurt twists closer, inching up Blaine's body and nuzzling into the sweat-curled hair at his temple, kissing there for a moment before he shakes his head. "Tomorrow night. Flights were so much cheaper and exams," he says by way of explanation.

Silence stretches again, both lost in their own thoughts and Blaine doesn't notice when his fingers start drifting up and down the curve of Kurt's waist or how heavily Kurt's leaning into that touch, slowly succumbing to the tug of fatigue.

"Sleepy?" Blaine mumbles without really thinking about it.

Kurt hums and snuggles inevitably closer, tighter. "Just a nap," he says, toes scratching up the back of Blaine's calf. He drifts again, breath evening and body relaxing. The last thing Blaine hears him say is quiet and half-asleep: "I'm going to miss you more than ever now."

* * *

><p>Kurt wakes up to a note on Blaine's pillow:<p>

_Had to get home. I'll see you for Christmas. I love you. -B_

Kurt feels his lips quirk up as his eyes skate back to reread the familiar cursive scrawl, dwelling for too long on the '_I love you' _at the end. His fingers drift over the paper and then he folds it in half, finds his wallet on the dresser and slips the note into an empty compartment. He wants to call but he knows he should really get dressed properly and spend time with his family. He refuses to think too hard about the fact that Blaine left him alone under the sheets. Again. That's not something he can think about.

Anyway, he is sure Blaine is just as busy with Thanksgiving as he is.

_I love you and I'm counting the days._

He double-checks the text message and then hits send.

* * *

><p>Blaine has just settled in front of the TV, McDonalds on the coffee table and a beer stolen from the fridge already open beside it. His phone dings at him and he glances at the message. His fingers itch to respond, to say <em>I love you<em> back, to thank him, to beg Kurt to leave it, to wait, to forget him again. _Just a little bit longer. _

They shouldn't have done what they just did and he had known that from the second he'd followed Kurt into his room. They should have stayed friends and in love but sex ties it all together tighter, affirms that it's real and demonstrates what is missing and makes the distance more heart-breaking and he doesn't want Kurt to miss him. Doesn't want Kurt to ache. He simply wants Kurt to be happy.

And he doesn't want his own heart to break before he gets to New York. There's no point in that.

So he doesn't message back. He deletes the message and slides the phone into his back pocket, rubs his eyes, and settles in the slightly chilly house to watch meaningless television and try to sleep for the rest of the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Dark Blue (4/13)  
>Rating: NC-17<br>Summary: The story of how Kurt and Blaine broke up, found themselves and then found happiness.  
>Words: 3300<p>

A/N: Thank you so much, every single time, to everyone who is reading and reviewing this. Obviously this is a lot harder for me to write than all the porn and I am constantly umming and arring over what it is I am trying to do. So reviews on this mean the world to me. This chapter is probably the most difficult for me out of all of them. Just making Blaine and Kurt make sense has been an almost impossible feat but I hope half of what I'm trying to convey gets through. Enjoy it!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

It's the last week of November and the weather in New York is just starting to turn chilly. The depths of fall have lasted longer than usual, or so the New Yorkers keep telling him, but now the winds have picked up and are blowing cold and harsh through the city. And then one morning Central Park is all orange and golden and the next it's washed into hues of blue and brown.

Kurt returns from Lima to emails and assignments and chaos; the few weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas are not nearly enough to get everything done. But it all rushes past him and around him without really touching him for the first few hours because all he can remember is Blaine. Blaine who hasn't forgotten him in the least, who still loves him and aches for him exactly the same way Kurt loves and aches for him.

Kurt sits on his bed and pulls his diary out and counts back the days from his last exam just before Christmas to now: less than a month. Then he counts the days between New Year's and Spring Break. Then the days from Spring Break to the end of semester.

He is biting his lip when he counts forward the weeks he'll spend in Ohio to the first day of the fall semester in 2013 and he's grinning as he tries to decide how early Blaine will want to come up to New York to explore.

* * *

><p><em>Everyone here is so jealous I got to fly home and spend Thanksgiving with my high school sweetheart.<em>

He sends the text during his lunch break while Rachel blathers on about her boyfriend troubles and the two other girls at the table nod sympathetically and agree that proper boyfriends are just impossible to juggle with college and social commitments and New York.

When Blaine doesn't respond immediately, Kurt's fingers move over the screen again:

_Thank you for being my amazing boyfriend and reminding me why I wasn't chasing after all the cute New York boys._

His fingers hover but he bites his lip and grins and hits 'send'.

There's still nothing from Blaine and Rachel's voice has gotten progressively higher in pitch as her story continues.

_I can't believe a few hours with you makes me miss you this much._

And then he stares at his phone and mentally wills Blaine to respond.

* * *

><p>When Blaine does respond it's short and doesn't really make too much sense and it's after midnight. Kurt reads it the next morning.<p>

_Be happy you're back in New York. _

After some consideration, Kurt tries to call but Blaine doesn't answer. He reasons Blaine much be in class. Next time he calls, he's sure to wait for the end of the day. Blaine doesn't answer again. Kurt waits, computer open on his bed, mindlessly looking through notes. When he sees Blaine pop up on Facebook he clicks into a chat _and _he calls_. _

Blaine ignores both and Kurt's stomach starts to knot. He lies back on his bed and wonders what has gone wrong. Why Blaine who was so in love with him a few days ago is once again pushing him away. Kurt tries to call him again and again over the next few days and the fear builds into anger and then back into fear. He calls Finn who calls Artie who confirms Blaine has been at school.

Not sick, just quiet.

Kurt sighs and gives up and buries himself in exam prep and the pre-Christmas rehearsals of the musical and the sudden onslaught of seniors who want him to change this, that and everything for their costumes. Last minute, of course.

* * *

><p>Two weeks after Thanksgiving, an email arrives in his inbox in the middle of the day. It's from Blaine and it doesn't have a title and Kurt slips out of rehearsals to read it.<p>

_What happened over Thanksgiving was a mistake. It hurts too much. _

The email says other things. Justifications and allowances that all contradict each other. Blaine says things he hasn't said since the night before Kurt went to New York.

_Don't wait for me. _

_New York is more important than me. _

_Enjoy it. _

But that one line: '_Thanksgiving was a mistake,'_ echoes in Kurt's brain and through tears he seethes and dials Blaine's number. Then again. He thinks he's probably called a dozen times with Rosie, another girl from the chorus line, finds him and doesn't quite know what to do.

In the end Kurt ends up snuck into Rachel's dorm room for the night, snuggled up pathetically in her arms and trying to work out what the fuck is going on.

He emails Blaine back the next day, level headed and watched by Rachel. He asks for reasons and explanations, asks if this is finally it for them, even though he knows it can't be, not after Thanksgiving.

Then he waits.

* * *

><p>Blaine's grades slip for all of a week. He sits two fairly pointless tests just after Thanksgiving and he doesn't do quite as perfectly as his parent's expect. Which is problematic because his father is watching him write his college applications. Fill in the forms, structure the essays, rearrange his comprehensive list of extra curriculars. And grades slipping, important or not, upset his father.<p>

His father asks him if it's because of 'that boy'. And Blaine can't do it, he can't lie or ignore it. Because it is tearing him apart. He screams at his father for the first time in years and gets only a slapped cheek in response. And grounded, not that that matters.

But he has known that what happened at Thanksgiving would only make the ache worse, for both Kurt and himself. Would make his grades slip and his stomach feel constantly empty and his temper flare. He had known all of that before they'd even hit the sheets. He should have been able to say 'No' but he couldn't, he had given in too easily and fallen.

And Kurt is back in New York and missing him and calling and texting and Blaine doesn't want to answer and make the ache worse. He doesn't want to answer and give him parents one more reason to dislike the love of his life. He wants Kurt to forget and keep going. Seven, eight more months? It won't be long.

He pulls away harder, willing himself to keep going, to not give up. He hides and runs. Buries himself in entrance essays and arguing with his parents about college.

Soon he'll have his acceptance letters and have to choose which college in New York to go to and how to tell Kurt's he's coming and see if they can stay in the same dorms, maybe even the same dorm rooms. He imagines that conversation with Burt and cringes while his lips curl up. Then he remembers how far off that is, how much time they still have apart and he feels nauseous.

He hates that Kurt is in New York feeling the same. He emails, trying desperately to get the point across, blinded a little by exhaustion and his parents and school and his entire world still being off kilter. And he promises himself that this will be it.

* * *

><p>When Kurt emails back Blaine deletes it without reading, without breathing and then goes into his trash can and hovers until he feels light-headed. Then he deletes it completely.<p>

_Just wait a few more months Kurt._

* * *

><p>Kurt flies in for Christmas even more exhausted than he was at Thanksgiving. Burt comes alone to pick him up from the airport and after grinning at each other and the quickest of exchanges, Kurt leans against the car window and drifts off to sleep.<p>

Over the next few days the whole story of Kurt's first semester pours out. The trials and triumphs and plays and new friends. Everything that wasn't blurted out at Thanksgiving is told in a long, slow story that always boils down to New York and happiness. Kurt sleeps and eats more than he would in a normal week in the space of three days.

Then Carole asks him when he's going to see Blaine and he stares, lips twitching down and says, "I don't know."

* * *

><p>They cross paths two days later. Entirely coincidental and at the mall and Blaine would slide around a corner and away but Kurt has seen him and is smiling on reflex. By the time they've crossed the food court and agreed on coffee and taken a seat, Kurt's smile is gone and his eyes are dark and stormy.<p>

Neither one of them knows what this is and the conversation circles in the same holding pattern for too long.

"Why?"

"I just want you to be happy."

Eventually Kurt sighs and snaps. "You know this is breaking me apart."

Blaine stares and until that moment he didn't _know_ but he'd suspected and now he bites his bottom lip until he thinks it's about to bleed. "That's why Thanksgiving was a mistake." Kurt sighs exasperated and changes the topic.

Blaine tells him about the college applications. How he's applying to so many places and the deadline is basically upon him and his essays still aren't quite perfect. Blaine slips into telling him how difficult things are with his parents, how this is all a sham and a waste and then he remembers himself and goes back to detailing the interview processes for scholarships at America's elite schools.

He asks Kurt about New York and Kurt turns his nose up and refuses to answer.

* * *

><p>Santana has organized New Year's Eve at Breadstix. It reminds Kurt of Valentine's Day at the Sugar Shack except Blaine isn't going to show up and sing to him. Blaine is across the room talking to Quinn.<p>

It's after eleven when Blaine makes his way across the room to where Kurt's sitting in a booth and slowly sipping a diet coke. "I'm sorry about the other day," is all he says.

Kurt stares at him and blinks slowly. "You're obviously under a lot of stress."

Shrugging, Blaine slides in across from Kurt. "I don't know anyone applying to quite as many colleges as me. And you know my dad."

Kurt nods and fixes him with his eyes. "What's your top preference?"

Blaine wants to say NYADA. Of course he does. Classes interwoven with Kurt's, catching the bus together, so many new mutual friends. He's not sure he's good enough though. Or that he could go to NYADA without his parents cutting him off completely.

"Columbia."

"In New York?" Kurt sounds cautious but Blaine biting back on so much he doesn't hear it.

"My parents want me to go to Stanford, of course. They've wanted that since forever. Follow in dad's footsteps and all that." Blaine wishes Quinn or Rachel or Santana would come and sit with them, break up the conversation. "The entrance essays for these places are insane though. It took me three weeks to write the one I submitted to Harvard and then my dad basically rewrote it and he still said it wasn't a stand out."

Blaine runs his hand through his hair and Kurt thinks he looks tired. "But Stanford is the one my parent's are pushing. There's a scholarship interview in two weeks and my parents actually want me to fly all the way out there just for a ten minute pop quiz. This is on top of the two entrance essays and a list of extra-curriculars more comprehensive than most grad resumes!"

Blaine pauses and looks at Kurt and realizes this is the first time he's talked about college with anyone other than his parents. It's the first time he's said what he's thinking out loud and Kurt is just listening, quietly and Blaine feels more settled, more okay than he has in months.

_New York though. New York is it for me. You are it for me._

But Kurt's eyes look sad and confused and a little bit lost and he won't push that on him because he knows but doesn't need to be reminded.

Across from him Kurt wonders when Stanford became an option and for the first time ever he misses New York. He doesn't know what is going on in his life here in Lima and when Blaine leaves Breadstix, saying he needs to get to his family's party, Kurt finds a corner and sends out New Year's Eve text messages. He texts Rachel and asks her how her dads are. And Melanie and asks her again if she really was as pleased as she'd seemed with the work he's done in the weeks before. And Michael and asks inane silly questions about how New York is right now, devoid of students and washed white with snow for Christmas.

* * *

><p>Blaine gets the scholarship to Stanford. He can't quite believe it when they phone him on one of the last days of February to congratulate him on his impressive entrance essays and interview. It's more prestige than anything else but it means he has a place there in a law degree. He doesn't tell his parents but he knows what it means: he's going to get offered other places at other colleges. He is going to be able to pick.<p>

Columbia, NYU, NYADA. He thinks they'll all send out acceptance letters. He reads back over his admissions essays, closes his eyes and rethinks his audition pieces and smiles. He will get offers for New York.

And him and Kurt, they're more than half way. They have slipped and slid to their lowest point and now it's a month until spring break and then a few months after that and they're on the rise again. Blaine fights the urge to email or call and tell Kurt that everything is going to be okay. Instead he fantasizes about parties and cafes and Central Park in the spring. He goes over the conversation he is going to have to have with his parents and debates how hard he should fight.

In the first week of March two acceptance letters turn up as well as the official paperwork for the Stanford scholarship. NYU and UCLA.

But NYU is the one that catches Blaine's eye and he stares at it. If everything else falls apart, if his essays didn't hold up to scrutiny, if his solo audition was terrible, he is still going to New York.

Kurt will be back in days for Spring Break.

It's real and close and Blaine can't wait any longer. He spends too many hours on facebook combing through the photos of Kurt at college, at lunch, wandering around New York. Everything is candid and Kurt's been tagged by people Blaine doesn't know yet. But it makes him jealous and excited all at once and he thinks it makes him a little bit selfish.

He is going to New York and now he wants to know what it is like. He wants Kurt to be ready for him. To have adventures and experiences planned out. He wants to lie across his bed with Kurt and talk endlessly about dormitories and the weather. He can have that now because it is so close and so real and he'll let himself be selfish and make them miss each other because pushing Kurt away has hurt too much and now he knows he can cling. Just a few more months.

Spring break, next week, he will tell him and everything will change.

* * *

><p>It's the middle of March and Rachel and Finn have finally worked things out. Friends and ex high school sweethearts. It's still awkward but that's mostly just because Finn is always a bit awkward.<p>

It means Rachel can deck out her garden in fairy lights and throw a party. She creates the event on facebook and Blaine watches as the rsvps start coming in. Santana, Tina and Mike, Quinn and her boyfriend from Yale are all coming. Artie's busy and Mercedes is visiting relatives. Sugar and several juniors that seem to look the same as her plus there's a bunch of other rsvps on the wall. A bunch of people Blaine knows vaguely from school, some names he doesn't even recognise.

Kurt finally rsvps the day before and when Blaine sees it his heart skips a beat. Kurt is flying in on the Friday night of the party but he says he's missed everyone too much and will come straight from the airport. So the anticipation builds and Blaine arrives at the party early and helps set up and then nurses a beer while Rachel talks at him.

When Kurt finally shows up just before ten, he is as stunning as ever. His skin glowing and his eyes bright and Blaine always knew he'd travel well. Destined to constantly be on and off planes for work and for fun, he's the kind of guy who can walk out of an airport and look like he just stepped off a fashion runway.

Worn-comfortable jeans and a thick knit dark grey sweater with a heavy black coat hugging his shoulders and his waist even though it's hanging open. Stunning. Taller and leaner and stretched out perfectly as he reaches to pull Santana and Tina into a simultaneous hug. He hasn't noticed Blaine hovering in the kitchen doorway yet and Blaine revels in the moment of observation, of knowing them being together again is close enough to touch, to acknowledge. _Soon._

Laugh lines and teeth as Kurt smiles and says something, his voice audible but the words unintelligible. Then he sees Blaine and his eyes shine bright blue and his grin settles into a soft smile, as though he is at ease. But Santana is tugging at his jacket and saying something about the label and then there's Rachel, pulling focus and hugging him tight even though she probably saw him last week.

There's another twist of jealousy in Blaine's belly but he pushes it away and keeps smiling. In ten minutes they'll have agreed, they'll have ground rules and plans and Kurt will know Blaine is coming to New York to be with him. That it's all real now. Kurt will understand why Blaine pulled away and why it's all okay now.

It's twenty minutes. Blaine gets cornered by Quinn who wants to know if the rumors she's heard about his GPA are true, if he has really applied to Yale and Stanford and that his parents are looking overseas. She squeals and tells him all about Yale. About getting out.

Blaine nods and smiles and works hard not to tell her he's going to New York. That he's going with Kurt, doesn't she know that? Doesn't everyone know that?

And Kurt talks to Rachel and finds himself a soda and laughs loudly.

Then they're next to each other, smiling and it's more awkward than Thanksgiving because it feels like everything has changed. _Everything has. _They hug and Blaine wants to pull Kurt in tight and fit them together like he knows how but Kurt pulls back before he can and looks around the room.

Privacy, this would be easier with privacy. Kurt pulls Blaine away, down a corridor and into Rachel's old, untouched, bedroom. He clicks shut the door and has to dip his head and look to the side when Blaine crowds him backwards against the wood and leans in close enough to almost kiss him. Kurt looks at his mouth once and then won't meet his eyes but eases him back easily with his hands on his hips and a sigh. He still won't meet Blaine's eyes and there's a sudden sharp tug of panic deep in Blaine's stomach. Then Kurt says: "I need to tell you about someone," and Blaine's world falls apart.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry about the cliffhanger? You can probably see what is coming though. I just really, really hope I've managed to convey the two characters well enough and all of their emotions and the reality that the are teenagers and flawed and confused. I hope it makes sense. Also, forgive me for any blaring mistakes about the US college system. Wiki and google will only get you so far.


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